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It was utterly, disgustingly wrong.
He held his shaking hands over Hazel’s chest, which barely moved with her shallow breaths anymore. Let’s hope this shit is not too twisted to save her.
Drawing on the knowledge stolen from Selene, he muttered a healing spell, bidding the witch power inside him to rise to his command. Tapping into the layers of the world, he pulled more magic to him. The threads of power twined together, then stuttered out, the magic slipping through his fingers.
“Fuck!”
The blood sacrifices Selene had committed had already warped her magic, tainted it to a point where it behaved irrationally, unpredictably.
I can’t lose her. She couldn’t die. She just couldn’t. If this bloody twisted, corrupted magic couldn’t save her, he’d fucking welcome the death the ward spell would deal him in a few minutes.
Light-headed from fear, his heart pumping so hard it threatened to burst out of his chest, he tried again. Work, dammit.
This time, his hands started to glow, the threads of power flowing together to sink into Hazel’s body, to repair it cell by broken cell. Yes! He pulled and pushed, gritting his teeth against the repulsive feeling of Selene’s warped magic flowing through him. The blood stopped trickling from Hazel’s wounds, and the deep gash that was visible above her neckline slowly closed, knit together by an invisible hand.
With a gasp, Hazel opened her eyes. She looked around wildly as if not recognizing where she was, her breathing panicky, her lips trembling.
“Here,” he rasped and gathered her in his arms. “I’m here, love. You’re okay. It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m here.”
He rocked her in his arms, pressing her so close he could feel her heart beat against his chest. He reveled in the sensation, in the scent of her, burying his nose in the crook of her neck. He wouldn’t give a flying fuck if everything else collapsed around him, if he took his last breath this next moment, as long as she would live.
As long as he could hold her like this, his heart truly happy for a moment frozen in time.
“Tallak,” Hazel whispered hoarsely. “What—”
She pulled back, and he let her, watching her eyes track to the limp body of Selene a few feet away. She sucked in a sharp breath.
“You killed her.” Her eyes widened as she looked back at him. “The spell. Did you stop it?”
Swallowing hard, he lowered his gaze and shook his head. The sigil still glowed on the wall, pulsing slowly. He could feel the magic of the ward powering up through the lingering connection of Selene’s magic inside him, and the realization of what it meant settled like lead in his gut.
“Fuck.”
At Hazel’s uncharacteristic expletive outburst, he looked at her again, one side of his mouth tipping up. “You’re sexy when you swear, you know that?”
Ignoring his comment, she tunneled a hand through her hair, her thoughts racing visibly behind that pretty face of hers. “It’s because you didn’t kill her in a blood sacrifice, isn’t it? That’s why the spell is still active. Oh, gods, what do we do now? How—”
“That’s not it,” he said quietly.
Her eyes met his.
“That’s not the only reason the spell is still running.”
“Then what—”
He reached out to her, his fingers caressing her cheek, needing to touch her, to feel her. “When I killed Selene, her magic didn’t die. I took it to heal you. It’s still inside me, and it means a part of her is still alive, in a way.”
Comprehension dawned in her eyes, and her face fell. “No.”
“Yes. It’s the only way to stop it now.”
She shook her head, grabbing his hand that was cupping her cheek. “No.”
“Hazel,” he said, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside him, “you have to kill me.”
* * *
“No,” Hazel croaked, her chest feeling as if someone were reaching inside, grabbing her heart, and squeezing it hard. “Don’t ask that of me. I can’t.”
